Page 48

R obert returned to Berkeley Square intending to have some breakfast before he returned to The Castle, but he was met with the intelligence that a female was waiting in the front parlor to speak with him.

The expression of disapproval on Creighton’s face as he said this was marked enough to raise the hairs on the back of Robert’s neck.

“Thank you.”

“You may rely on my discretion, Your Grace,” said Creighton stiffly, but it was clear his sensibilities were offended.

Robert opened the parlor door, and taking one look at its occupant, shut the door hastily and crossed the room to her side.

“Madeleine, good God, what are you doing here? Are you well? What is it?”

She was sitting on the edge of one of the chairs with her bonnet beside her, and when he reached her, she sprang up and flung herself on his chest, sobbing. “Oh, Robert, I’m so sorry, but I had to come when I heard.”

“Heard what?” he said with a sinking feeling. Her perfume, lavender, he used to find arousing, it now made him feel slightly ill, or perhaps that was just because of the sense of foreboding pervading his stomach. He patted her back gingerly and tried to extract her arms from round his neck.

“I was so cast down when I learned you were to be married, I was positively melancholy—it made me quite ill.”

He frowned, taking her hands and guiding her to sit down again. Tossing her bonnet aside, he sat beside her and said calmly, “Madeleine, I explained that was what was going to happen. I haven’t heard from you in months. I had assumed you were getting on with your life.”

She sniffed and he gave her a handkerchief. “I was so sad, but then I heard about the duchess and Ashford and thought you might need me?”

Oh God! He groaned silently. What a tangle! “Well, thank you for the thought, but no, it—isn’t what it looks like. I was at fault, not Ashford.”

She wiped her face and sniffed again. “The duchess was very understanding.”

“What?” He goggled at her dark glossy curls. Her dark beauty had ensnared him five years ago when they began their liaison. He had thought her the most beautiful woman he had ever met. Now he could only think black was no competition for chestnut.

“I was looking for you. When I came here, I was told you were in Leicestershire, so I went there, and the duchess told me you were here, so I came back again.”

He took a breath and bit back a sharp imprecation. “What did you say to the duchess?”

“I told—I told her about the baby!” she sobbed.

“What?” Robert’s world tipped on its axis, and he was grateful he was sitting down. His heart raced and that sick feeling increased.

“Are you telling me you are with child?”

She nodded, and standing up, she flattened her gown over her belly to show the gentle swell.

Robert closed his eyes for a moment and just breathed.

He opened his eyes and said through numb lips, “Why didn’t you come to me with this earlier?”

She swallowed and sat back down, her hands plucking at her skirts nervously.

“I—I wanted to be sure. I was so upset I didn’t notice at first that I’d missed my courses, then I kept hoping they would start, and I was wrong.

I felt so ill and tired and lethargic. I thought it was just grief at first.”

He rubbed his face with a groan. “Madeleine, I had no idea you would take this so hard. You seemed fine when I last spoke with you, not happy about it exactly, but not distraught. I—I cannot believe you would wait this long to come to me with this. You must be five months at least—”

“Do you mean to cast me off?” she said tremulously.

“Of course not, I just need a moment to—adjust! This is not what I expected. I thought we were always careful, that you took precautions. How did this happen?” He rose and paced around the room.

He felt sick to his stomach. He may not have loved Madeleine as he did Sarah, though it had caused him a pang to separate from her.

But he had done it thinking it was best for her to have time to adjust and find a new protector before he was leg shackled.

He had looked forward eagerly to Sarah having his children.

He had never expected—. He looked back at her sitting huddled on the couch looking woebegone and small.

God, I am a beast to treat her so. Why would she wait so long to tell me?

She was small for five months, he thought, but then what did he know of such things?

Getting a grip on himself, he returned to the couch, sat, and took her hands. “Do not worry, I will take care of everything. You will not want for anything, you or the child.”

“The duchess said you would say that,” she sniffed.

His heart contracted. Sarah! She will never forgive me for this. He felt the sting of tears under his lids and a deep ache in his heart.

“I do wish that you hadn’t seen and spoken with the duchess. This will have caused her pain that I would prefer she didn’t have to experience.”

“Do you care for her?” she asked in a small voice.

“Yes. I’m sorry if it grieves you, but I do, very much.”

And this would destroy his already fragile marriage. What a way for a marriage to begin! To his knowledge, even his father, despite his dissolute ways before he’d married Mama, had no bastards.

“I’m sorry!” she whispered, choking on another sob.

“What do you have to be sorry for? This is not your fault, or at least no more than mine.” He rose and paced to the hearth, recalling his joy at the notion of Sarah being pregnant and the contrast with how he felt about this.

But that isn’t the child’s fault. I will love it, whatever it is, boy or girl, and do my best to ensure it has everything life could offer a baseborn child of mine.

He recalled his father’s joy at each birth of his siblings, in particular the girls. He had been a bit young to remember the boys’ births, but he remembered Ava’s especially. And Heather’s. He had been away at school for Ingrid’s.

“I can’t do it!” Madeleine’s anguished cry broke through his thoughts and jerked him back to the present. Returning to her side, he crouched down before her as she wept into her hands.

“Can’t do what?” He felt helpless and empty inside. Madeleine needed comfort, and he had so little to give. She had carried this burden for months alone.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she sobbed.

Alarmed at the edge of hysteria on her voice, he tried to pull her hands away from her face. “Madeleine, what—?”

“I lied!” Her red eyed, tear streaked, and blotched face screwed up in anguish. “I’m sorry! It’s not yours.” She closed her eyes and dropped her head in shame.

He blinked at her, trying to fathom what she was saying.

He rose and paced away from her. “Who?”

“The Earl of Lannister!” she sobbed.

Lannister? Lannister? Incandescent fury erupted under his ribs. He clenched his fists and turned back to her.

“And that cur refused to help you? That is why you turned to me?” He was panting, he realized vaguely, his heart thudding violently.

She shook her head, a black curl shaking loose from her coiffure and falling down her neck. “I know he has no money. I didn’t tell him.”

“You thought you could get more from me?” His voice was raw.

“I wanted you back!” she cried. “But it was wrong, and I c-can’t do it! I’m so sorry!”

“Tell me everything—when, where, how. Damn it, do you realize how much damage this has done to my marriage?”

She sobbed some more and then began to speak haltingly. “It was in February. I-I had been moping and miserable since you’d ended things. I decided I needed to—get on with my life. Needed something to help me get o-over you!” She gasped and wiped her face, sniffed and blew her nose.

“Did he approach you?” Has Lannister always hated me, targeted those around me, without me realizing it?

“No, not exactly. I don’t think he knew who I was at the time. I certainly didn’t know who he was. It was a masked ball, one of those public ones.”

He nodded slowly. “So, you met by chance?”

She nodded.

“Was it only the once?”

“Yes, we exchanged first names but nothing more. He told me his name was Rey, I was pretty certain he was a peer, but I didn’t work it out until—until I met him on the road back to London.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“On my way back from Leicestershire, from—from your estate, I met him at Swinford. It was only then we recognized each other.”

“And you didn’t tell him then? Why the hell not?” His voice rose a little.

She shook her head, pleating her skirts. “I made a split-second decision to continue the subterfuge. As I said, I wanted you, not him. I knew he didn’t have your resources, or your”—she swallowed—“kindness.”

“What did you say to him?”

“I told him I was with child, and it was yours.”

“Why? Why tell him anything?”

“I am beginning to show. I can’t hide it for much longer. He would learn of it anyway eventually, especially if it became known it was yours.”

“And how did you convince him, in the circumstances, that I was the father and not him?” he asked grimly.

“I told him that I’d missed my courses after we—you—. But I was too upset to notice until later.”

“And had you?”

“No, I had them as normal after we parted. It was only after I was with him that they stopped.”

“I see. Well, that explains why you didn’t come to me earlier. You’re three months along, not five.”

“Yes,” she whispered, head still bowed.

“Where was Lannister bound, did he tell you?”

“No, but he left in a hurry when I told him that I had just come from speaking with the duchess.”

“I’ll bet he did!” Robert swore beneath his breath, pounding his fist on the mantelpiece. “My God, what a coil!”

She began to sob again, and he paced a bit trying to think.

Finally, he came to a stop and said roughly, “Please stop crying, Madeleine. More properly, this is Lannister’s problem, not mine, but I’ll not see you destitute over this, for he’s not likely to help you.

Just wait here, I’ll be back in a moment. ”

She raised her face and looked at him, blinking wetly. He left the room and went into the library, where his desk was located. He drew out paper, pen, and ink.

In a few minutes, he was back and handed her a folded sheet.

“Take that to Coutts’s Bank, it will ensure you have sufficient funds for your purposes.

I will arrange for another house you can move into.

If you continue at Clarges Street, everyone will assume the child is mine, and frankly I’d rather they didn’t.

You can take everything with you, including the servants.

I don’t expect we will see each other again.

” He walked to the doorway. “Good day, Creighton will see you out.” He bowed and held the door for her.

She gathered up her bonnet and, still clutching his handkerchief and the folded paper, she left with one last wistful look over her shoulder at him. He watched as Creighton held the front door open for her, and she stepped over the threshold.

When Creighton closed the door on her, Robert’s shoulders slumped. He felt gutted by the events of the past hour, but there was no time to delay. If he was right, and Lannister was headed to Leicestershire to see Sarah, it might already be too late. He felt sick all over again.

“Have my horse brought round, Creighton. I’ll be leaving in fifteen minutes,” he said, heading up the stairs to fetch his baggage.